


Heat Wave

by Little_Firestar84



Series: Clint Barton/Reader Insert [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Imagination, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, heat wave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 14:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: It’s bad enough that your boyfriend, uncanny Avenger and – according to Fury – world’s greatest marksman, Clint Barton, has been away on a mission for days. But then, there's also the bloody heat wave.  Sleeping on your own is hard enough, but your loneliness plus the heat and the humid, sticky air make it a perfect combination for insomnia.And there's only a remedy for that.And it's being a little naughty.





	Heat Wave

You remember the time you went to LA for work in the summer, how hot it was, and how you said that you missed New York, that the weather was just great there in the summer, hot but not too much, than you very much – and yet, right now, in your old apartment, you regret your promise. 

You’d pretty much do anything to come back to that day, because New York under a heat wave is just _the worse_. It’s bad enough that your boyfriend, uncanny Avenger and – according to Fury – world’s greatest marksman, Clint Barton, has been away on a mission for days. Clint’s kind of… addictive, with his presence. Even since starting living together, you’ve found it hard to sleep on your own. Your loneliness plus the heat and the humid, sticky air make it a perfect combination for insomnia. 

(But maybe, just maybe, the broken air conditioning may have some faults, too. That, and the building’s owner, who is, yep, one Clint Barton.)

It’s almost midnight when your phone rings just once, the tiny red light shining the dark of your room keeping you awake. Lazily, you reach out to your nightstand, and look at what you just got, more out of curiosity than anything else. 

It’s not an ad - you’d broke your phone if it was yet another unwanted ad of some kind – but it’s a picture,Clint and Nat and Coulson eating noodles. Phil’s laughing, again – you’ve heard the man had gone through some struggles, death included – Nat’s smile is filling the room, and Clint is looking at the camera with that crooked smile of his. You blush just looking at him, feeling more and more hot all over. You bite your lip and sight. You know that smile all too well – it’s the kind of smile that Clint gives you when he wants to have you naked and lost in pleasure in his arms. 

It always, always works. Hell, it’s even working now, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t even trying to get you to be a naughty girl. 

Maybe. Only one way to know. 

Moving slowly in the dark, your breathing crazy, you wonder if you could really pull it off. For all your talk, you’re kind of vanilla when it comes to pleasure. You have desires, fantasies, but you’ve never acted on them, never shared any of your thoughts with your partners, scared to be labeled a freak (or a whore). Have you ever thought about phone sex? Hell yeah. Have you ever initiated it? No freaking way. 

But, with Clint, it’s different. Maybe it’s because he is a little older. Maybe it’s because he’s a former carnie. Or maybe it’s because he’s been around, or because he goes through life or death situations on a daily basis. You don’t know why, you feel like you can open up, be honest, and explore a few kinks here and there. 

You slip off you panties – plain white cotton, no need to be fancy when there’s no one around - and Clint shirt, your choice of sleeping attire for the days he is away – and you seat in your bed, dimming the lights. Then, you call his number, your hands shaking slightly with anticipation, and put your device on speakerphone, freeing your hands. Those, you need to reach out into your nightstand, where you retrieve the silicon toy you’ve recently gotten yourself for your days of solitude. You’ve never used it before, and feel like there’s no time like the present. 

“Hello? Darling?” Clint’s sleepy voice answers, and it fills your heart with warmth – not just desire, but pure, unaltered affection for this amazing man who, despite the ups and downs of life, gave a chance to you. 

Your heart beats like crazy. “Ehy, sniper boy. Did I wake you up?”

“Hmm… no, just got to my room, actually. I’m just getting old. Which should make you rethink the whole dating me thing, now that I think about it. So please forget I said anything?” He jokes, and you giggles. 

“So… are you alone right now?” Clint doesn’t answer, but he makes a sound that seems an affirmative. Maybe. “Because, you see, I’ve been actually thinking a lot about us, and the fact is, honey, that I’m not wearing panties.”

Clint swallows hard, and you giggle, imagining his sex hardening, filled with liquid heat and desire. “Were you going to sleep, Clint? Only in your boxers, like you do when you are home?”

“Yeah.” He answers.

“Get rid of them.” He reaches beneath the sheets, and got rid of his shorts in a few seconds. 

“They are gone, honey.”

“It’s hot over here. I’m always in the nude as soon as soon as I walk through the door.”

Clint groans, imagining you and him, together, in your bed. In his mind, you’re on top of him, kissing him as your hands reach out for his sex and bring him to a full erection in a matter of seconds. “God, honey, you are killing me. I wish… I wish you were here.”

“But I’m with you, Clint.” You whispers in a sultry voice, as your hands travel the length of your body, caressing each millimeter of skin, imagining Clint’s hands and lips all over your naked, heated body.“Kiss me. Touch me.”

“My hands… rolling your shoulders to make you relax, and thenteasing your nipples. I love them, rolling them through my fingers, hardening them to the point they hurt, and then just biting them,staring into those deep eyes of yours, and making you come just by doing this.”

“Mmm…. Yes… lower, Clint… I need you… I need you…” 

You can almost hear him grinning on the other side of the line, his voice as low as yours. “C’mon honey, tell me what you want. You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Touch me.” You prey, answering his request. “I need your fingers, in me, right now.”

“Oh, honey, you’re killing me.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “Are you imaging me, teasing your clit with soft little circles? I’m sliding a finger inside you, then two, scissoring them… playing with your g spot while I work your clit with my tongue.”

Your moans are a testament to the power he holds over you, and just test his stamina. “Clint… make love to me.”

“Yeah… that’s what I want, too… I’m so hard right now, honey. All for you.” He sighs, wrapping an hand around his slick cock, licking his lips and moaning. “Wraps your legs around me – my cock’s already buried deep in you. I love looking in your eyes as we are making love, seeing you are you are just about to come….”

He can almost feel your hair tickling his face as youbreath in and out together, at the same time, lips on lips, Clint’s cock buried deep in your pussy, reaching points no man had ever reached before, knowing just how to make your body sing. Your breaths, full and round, pressed against his chest, your open legs, welcoming him.

“Ah…..” He breaths, as he sees – he feels – himself easing inside your welcoming, wet, tight channel. “Oh, yeah…”

“All the way… bury it to the hilt….” You urge. “Deeper… faster…. Harder…”

He obliges, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of emotions and desire, his hands matching the rhythm of your imaginary love-making, of, he hopes, of your fingers, buried deep inside your pussy. 

He doesn’t know why, but he has to ask. He just has to. “Are you playing with yourself?”

“Yes – you lazily answers – but not my fingers. I got myself a toy. For when you’re not around. I play with myself… and imagine you, on top of me, fucking me. I love when you are on top of me, Clint. I love caressing your face, cupping your cheek- and slid a thumb in your mouth. Looking at the way you suck my skin, your eyes closed, and sweat running down your hair. And the way you look as you come, my pussy all round you… it’s priceless, honey.”

He imagines you, naked in your bed, playing with a dildo, on your back, your legs wide open as you fuck yourself silly with the silicone toy. Just imagining it makes him crazy – he can’t wait to see you performing live for him and him alone. Oh, he can almost see the scene, you, masturbating, half-sitting on your bed, looking at him, sitting naked on his armchair masturbating in tempo with you. He’d reach the bed just as he’d feel himself ready to explode, offering his cock to your mouth, knowing all too well how much you like swallowing his cum.

Or maybe he’d go for your breasts. He is a breasts man, after all. And one of life’s pleasure is, according to one Clint Barton, covering your tits with his seed, and watch as you play with them, licking your hands clean afterwards.

“I was so ashamed, Clint. Well, not really ashamed, but… a bit uncomfortable, I guess? You know how shy I can be at times. Besides, if I have to go to a sexy shop, I’d rather be with you. I wouldn’t want to be alone in some seedy back-alley shop… soI ordered it from the web. It got delivered to our door, with no one the wiser. And I had to try it on, Clint. Oh, Clint… I really love playing with myself, sliding this little toy in and out of me, pressing it hard on my clit, imagining it was you, teasing me. But the real deal… Oh, Clint, I can’t wait to get you back. To feel you in me, knowing that it’s real, and not a toy or my fingers or my imagination…”

“I can’t… last long. You’re too much, honey.” He prays you. “I love how free you can be with me. How much you like to explore. Try new things out.”

“Oh, I’m almost there, Clint…” You gasp, then cry out, your walls swallowing the toy as you come as hard as few other times before, shaking with uncontrollable desire. Your ecstatic cry drains all of Clint’s energy, and he follows you, just seconds after your release, filing his hands with his seed, messing the sheets of the tiny bed of his hotel room, your moans mingling together in one cry and one alone.

(Thanks God he isn’t sharing a room with Coulson.)

A comfortable silence falls upon you both. 

“Are you asleep?” He finally asks. 

“Almost.” Your laughter is musical. “That was incredible, Clint. But, I think I should let you go back to sleep.”

“Uh, Uh.” He nods. “Good night, honey, Gonna call me tomorrow?”

You nod, then, after a good night kiss, you hear a faint lick, and then a dial tone. You grin, and yawn as you fall on your pillow.

Looks like your insomnia has been cured for the night.


End file.
